


These Complicated Lines

by raindrop_louis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, M/M, Name Changes, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindrop_louis/pseuds/raindrop_louis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry are from different worlds. One being rich and popular, the other nerdy and unwanted. They have absolutely nothing in common; or so they thought. When Harry has to start tutoring Louis, they learn each other's secrets and see they are more alike than they ever thought possible. Never in their wildest dreams did they think they would fall in love, but when they do, everything is at risk. For Harry, his sanity, for Louis his life. You see, the so called "geeks" and "popular people" don't mix. If they were to try, they wouldn't live to regret it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, the title for this comes from the song "Is Anybody Out There" by The Downtown Fiction. I was itching to start a new Larry fic, but I didn't have much of an idea. I was listening to the song I mentioned earlier and I guess that kind of unraveled a whole stream of ideas. I don't know how long I plan on making this, I'lll just have to see where it goes. I apologize in advance for any misspellings or incorrect grammar. 
> 
> Preview:  
> Harry was different. He wasn't like the others. He was odd, strange. No one understood him. He was quiet, always alone, always reading or studying for that upcoming test. He had no friends, but he preferred it that way. He didn't have to explain himself to anyone. All he had to do was get a perfect score.
> 
> Louis was quite the opposite. He was loved, always in the lime light and on everyone's A-list. Deep down he wasn't like his fellow A-listers though. They were always fussing about petty things. He couldn't even begin to tally the umber of times a day he heard, "Daddy fucking bought me the white car when he KNEW I wanted the red one." So materialistic, the whole lot was. Louis was simple. He couldn't help that his family was rich and that it made him popular. No, he wasn't like them. If anything, he was more like Harry. 
> 
> When their worlds collided and they grew closer, Harry would say, "You're perfect, Lou. You have it all." Louis would argue back and say, "No, love, you're perfect." Each night they repeated those words, finding pleasure in the smiles they put on each other's faces. They went on like that for months until one decided he was too tired of trying to convince the other. In the end, it was Harry who had the final word. 
> 
> "You're still perfect, Lou."

Chapter 1: The Rules of Society

"The keys in my mind are turning like dancers." -Cameron Leahy

Louis:  
 _Oh my bloody God, can you all just shut your fucking mouths? Nobody gives a fuck_. Louis had thought that so many times but he never dared say it out loud; it would be the end of him. Over the years he had learned to smile, nod, and smile some more. What he found amusing was that every single one of them bought into the pretenses. Maybe it was because they were all so fake themselves, the line between their reality and delusions had completely dissipated. He laughed silently and drummed his fingers on his desk, eyes darting to the small clock mounted on the wall. Two more minutes and he could leave. Not for good though. He had to come back and do it all over again tomorrow.

  
"Hey, you're coming this weekend, aren't you?"  
"Course, mate. Wouldn’t miss it."

  
That was Zayn, the perfect little lad from Bradford with money falling from his arse. Louis winced as the shrill ring of the dismissal bell made its way throughout the school. The whole class all but jumped from their seats, fighting their way out the door. Louis lagged behind. As much as he wanted to leave, he didn’t feel like being crushed together with twenty other sweaty teenagers.

  
"Mr. Styles, Mr. Tomlinson, can I see you both for a moment please?"

  
Louis slumped his shoulders and sighed, walking over to the teacher's desk. The other lad was already standing there, looking stiff in his vest and impossibly straight tie. Harry was his name. Louis had seen him wondering around school once or twice, but they had never exchanged words. After all, the rules of society clearly stated that geek and popular didn't mix- and if they so much as tried, they wouldn't live to regret it. Louis honestly did not understand the reasoning behind it, but he wasn’t stupid enough to go against it. Louis’ eyes flickered over the Harry, watching him push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

  
"Louis, I don't think you're understanding the material that's being taught."

  
 _Not really. It’s what I need you to think. I actually understand this class perfectly._

  
"What makes you say that?" Louis questioned the teacher.  
"You've received Ds on the last two tests. You were skating by with Cs, but your grades have dropped."  
"That is why," the teacher continued, "Harry here will be your tutor."  
"Oh, no, sir, I don't think that's necessary."  
"I, Mr. Tomlinson, believe it is. You and Harry will meet every day after school until your grades improve, starting with right now. You may work anywhere you like."  
"But sir-"  
"No buts. You're a bright kid, Louis. If you work hard enough it shouldn't take long to bring your grades up." He turned to Harry who hadn’t spoken a word to either of them. "I'm sorry if this is an inconvenience, Harry, but you're one of the only students I can count on."  
"Of course. It's no trouble, sir. I don't mind."  
"Great. I have a meeting to get to in a few moments so unfortunately you can't use my classroom today."  
"That’s fine.”

  
Harry turned to Louis, looking a bit intimidated and asked, "Um, where would you like to go?"  
 "Doesn't really matter. No matter where we go I'll still be stuck with your nerdy arse."  
“Language, mister,” the teacher scolded.  
Harry once again pushed his glasses up with his pointer finger, Louis completely ignoring the teacher’s comment.  
"Well, uh...we could use the computer room. People are rarely in there after school."  
"Yeah, whatever. Lead the way, schoolboy."

Harry:  
Harry was wracking his brain, trying to figure out how he had allowed himself to be caught in this situation. He was tutoring Louis Tomlinson, one of the richest guys in school; he was right up there with Bradford and Wolverhampton. Harry wasn't surprised that Louis needed extra help because more often than not, most of the rich, preppy kids couldn't care less about their academic standing. Their social ranking was their number one priority. He was starting to realize that his suggestion to study in the computer room had been a good one. The only way someone would want to be in a secluded room with Louis Tomlinson was if you were some dumb, blonde bimbo. Harry only hoped that he made it out with his glasses intact.

Louis:  
Louis found this whole situation ridiculous. He knew this material. Math came so easy to him it probably came easier than it did to Harry. For the third time, Louis took notice of Harry fumbling with his glasses. He couldn’t help himself from letting out a small laugh.

  
"What?" Harry demanded.  
"No need to be snippy, geek. It's just that I've noticed that's a habit of yours."  
"What is?"  
"Pushing your glasses up."  
Harry’s face took on a pinkish hue as he started to organize his many pens in pencils in a neat row in front of him.  
“No need to feel embarrassed,” Louis encouraged. “In all my years at this school I’ve come to realize that’s a fairly usual habit that nerds have.”  
"Yeah, yeah, make all the fun you want. Not like I'm not used to it or anything."  
"I wasn't making fun.” Louis paused, acting as though he was focusing his attention on something. “But hey, as long as you’re giving me permission, what the fuck, right? Might as well get good use of it.”  
"Go on, take your jabs and make your jokes. I bet you're gonna go tell Bradford and Wolverhampton all about it.”  
"Who?"  
"Zayn and Liam. It's what we 'geeks' call you. You're Doncaster."  
"Ah, I see. Very clever."  
"Yeah, whatever. Can we just go over the material? I want to save as much as your valuable time as I can, Sir Tomlinson."  
"Don't talk to me like that,” Louis retorted.

  
The other lad tugged nervously at his tie, making it crystal clear how uncomfortable he was. A string of guilt clenched his gut, making him feel sick to his stomach. Louis had no problem with Harry; he seemed like a nice young man. He sighed, wanting to utter out an apology but his voice wouldn’t allow it. Instead, all he said was, “Just shut up and tell me how to solve this shit.”

Harry slowly reached to pick up a pencil, turning to a wrinkle-free page in his notebook that had “Math” in small, perfectly aligned letters written on the cover. As he started to copy the equation onto the paper, he wrote down the steps so that Louis would be able to better understand it. While Harry spoke, Louis’ mind wandered in another direction. Yes, his thoughts were still focused on the boy in front of him, but not on his words. t look that bad.

  
“Here, you try.”  
“What?”  
“You try,” Harry repeated, cautiously handing him the pencil.  
"I’m not going to hurt you.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You look as though I’m going to punch you or something. I’m not.”  
“You’ve been known to.”  
“But I’m not.”  
“Just try the problem.”  
He didn’t blame Harry for not trusting him. It wasn’t like he had given him any good reason to. Louis’ stomach churned again, realizing that Harry was probably scared shitless of him.  
“I uh, have to go.”  
“But-“  
“I know. But I have to go.”

  
He quickly collected his things, thrusting his loose papers into his notebook. He rose from his chair, muttered, “Have a nice day, nerd,” and left the computer room as fast as he possibly could.

Harry:  
"Have a nice day, nerd."

Harry kept replaying the sentence in his mind. Louis Tomlinson had just told him to "have a nice day". Granted, he had called him a nerd, but being told to have a nice day was rare for him, even rarer coming from the likes of someone like Doncaster. Out of all the snobs at school, Louis always seemed to be the most lenient. When name calling or hazing went overboard Louis would be the one to stop it. Not that he didn't take part; he just knew when things had gone too far. Harry always had that small thought in the back of his mind that maybe, just maybe, Louis wasn't like the rest. That thought quickly left him whenever he saw him prancing around school like he owned the place. After all, Harry knew that those rich kids were too shallow and into themselves for him (or anyone else for that matter) to think otherwise.

Louis:  
The frustration didn't end with the school day. His family was just as bad as everyone at school, with their large house and luxurious cars. Worst of all were the butlers and housekeepers. They were enough to drive him mad. When Louis walked through the main entrance, Clarence (the butler he tolerated most) was waiting for him, his hands extended to take his backpack from him.

  
"I got it," Louis said, "I'm not an invalid. I have opposable thumbs and I'm very capable of carrying my own bag."  
"Of course, sir," the butler said as he rested his hands at his side.  
"It's Louis. Not 'sir' or 'Mr. Tomlinson'. Just Louis. Do I have to keep reminding you?"  
"No, Louis."  
"Good. How was your day, Clarence?" Louis questioned as he tossed his bag onto the couch.  
"Very well, very well. Your own?"  
"The same bloody things. Where's my mum?"  
"Your mother and father are having lunch with the Paynes. They requested that you be ready by 6:30. You and your parents are to be having dinner with the Maliks. They would highly appreciate it if you dress accordingly."  
"Yeah, I'm sure they would," Louis said, his tone drenched in sarcasm.

  
Louis trudged up the mountain of stairs that led to his bedroom. Louis' mind was nothing but a blur. He slammed the door once he was in the comfort of his room and threw himself backwards onto his bed. His head was throbbing and all he felt like doing was punching something. Instead, he had to "dress accordingly" because he was having dinner with Zayn and his family. Knowing his mum and dad, they would be late to dinner and he would have to yet again explain to the guests why they weren't there. The way he saw it, it was just one more dinner party. He had survived so many before this, this one should be no problem.  
*  
 _One, two. One, two. One, two._  
Louis bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, jabbing the punching bag on each count. His iPod was blasting music in the background, sweat sliding down his bare chest and back. The one perk to having a house as big as his was that he had his very own workout room. The door was thrown open by his mom who was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. From the look on her face, Louis could almost picture steam rising from her ears.

  
“Louis William Tomlinson!”  
“Oh. Hi mum.” Louis immediately stopped his punching and ran to turn his music down.  
“Cut the crap! Zayn and his family are waiting downstairs and you’re up here doing God knows what!”  
“Sorry, okay? I’ll go change.”  
“Yes, you will!”  
Louis lowered his head and walked past his mom, angrily pulling his headphones over his ears.  
*  
After dinner was over and the Maliks had went home to their own mansion, and his mom had finally stopped yelling at him, Louis had went back to his room. He had every intention of falling asleep, but something wouldn’t let him. Something was clouding his mind, keeping him on edge. That something had a name. _Harry. Harry Styles._ Louis had always felt guilty for the things he did. For all the name calling, for all the beatings. There was something different about this one though. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure what that something was. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was, _I’m sorry, Harry._


	2. He's So Nice, So Sweet and I Treat Him Like Crap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take the time to thank you all for reading. In case you're wondering, no, I'm not an Elounor shipper, I ship Larry. I mean no disrespect to those who DO ship it however. This is my first time writing anything with Eleanor as a character so I apologize if it's not up to par. Thanks again, please comment, kudos, subscribe, bookmark, yadda yadda. Lots of love :) x
> 
> P.S. I do take requests, so please feel free to ask :)

“She was all over me. She couldn’t stop. All I had to do was say ‘hi’ and she had her tongue down my throat.”

Louis was about ready to hit something. It was lunch, only one more class left, and all Josh could do was boast about some girl he had “picked up” the night before. _Poor girl. So easy to fall prey to his supposed charm._

“Tomlinson, you’re for sure coming tonight?”

“Yeah, Liam. Didn’t Zayn tell you I was?”

“He told me. Just wanted to make sure. I’m not about to throw a party and not have you there.”

“Louis! Louis!”

 _Oh no. Eleanor._ How could he forget Eleanor? She was the one that topped them all, the one that made him want to throw someone into a wall more than anyone else he knew. The petite brunette sashayed up to him, sat down, and draped her slender arm around his shoulders. She pecked his lips; that slight peck quickly turned into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that he was forced to return. 

“Baby, where were you yesterday? I waited for you at your locker but you never showed.”  
Liam, Zayn and Josh all turned to look at him, a puzzled look splayed across their faces.

“Um, I had tutoring.”

“Tutoring? Since when?”

“Since yesterday. My Maths grade is low and the teacher thinks it’s best that I get tutorued.”

“By who?”

“Harry Styles.”

Everyone erupted into a chourus of laughter, their voices echoing off the metal lunch table. Louis’ stomach churned in guilt, knowing they were laughing at Harry’s expense. 

“How the fuck did you end up with that twat?”

“Teacher stuck him with me,” he mumbled.

“For how long?”

“Hour and a half every day until my grade improves.”

“An hour and a half!” Liam exclaimed, “I needed you at my house after school to help me set up for the party!”

“You still have Zayn.”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry! Am I not good enough?” Zayn demanded. 

“Of course you are!”

“Oh, right, course I am. Just not as good as Louis.”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant.”

Zayn replied with a scowl. Louis cringed internally as Eleanor set her hand on his waist, but he returned the gesture. He plastered a fake smile onto his face and looked down at her, her smile mirroring his. It was sad how easily he could fake being happy. 

*

“Where have you been?”

“Certainly not here.” Louis slammed his books down on the table and fell into his chair carelessly.  

“Look I don’t mean to be rude, but if we have to do this, I would really appreciate it if you arived on time.”

“And I would really appreciate it if you would just show me how to solve these fucking problems so I can go get sloppy drunk and bang my girlfriend.” 

Louis had such a bad day he had somewhat meant what he just said. All he wanted to do was get drunk enough to black out so that he didn’t have to listen to anyone for a few hours. Harry lowered his head, not sure of what to say next and Louis felt a small pang jab his chest. 

“Just...just forget what I just said okay?” 

What he really wanted to say was, “I’m sorry”, but at the moment that was all his voice was allowing him to say. 

“Um, yeah, alright,” Harry agreed, his tone coming across a little shakey.

“So, what are you teaching me today, nerd boy?” Louis questioned, doing his best to lighten the mood. 

“Same as yesterday; we never finished.”

“Um, yeah about that. I’m sorry I ditched. I wasn’t feeling very well.”

“Wow. Doncaster apologising. Not every day you see that happen.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

The next hour and a half was spent with not so much talking, math Louis already knew, and a lot of daydreaming on Louis’ part. He couldn’t help it; there was something about this boy, something none of the other “geeks” at the school had. He found himself noticing the little things about him. Since last night, Harry had been the only thought on his mind. _He’s so nice, so sweet…and I treat him like crap…we all do._ He wished he could apologise for every little mean word he ever spoke to him, every joke behind his back, every “accidental” tripping. _What is he doing to me? I’ve felt guilty before…but not this strongly._

“Do you understand it now?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Well, good because time is up.”

“So quickly?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Okay. Hey, uh, can I get your number?” Louis asked the question before he lost his nerve and before he relaised he _shouldn’t_ be asking that question. When he thought about it, he didn’t even know he had asked the question until after the words had left his mouth.

“My number? W-what would you want my number for?” Harry nervosuly tugged at his tie, coming across like it was getting difficult for him to breath. 

What _did_ he want it for? 

“Um, you know, in case I need help with homework…or something.”

“Or something?”

“Or something.”

They looked blankly at each other, neither one knowing what to do or what to say.

“Can I have your fucking number or not, nerd?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Here.”

Harry shoved his hand into one of the many pockets in his backpack and pulled out a small pad of blue sticky notes. He scrawled his number out on it and passed it to Louis, pushing his glasses up. Louis snickered at the sight and accepted the piece of paper. 

“Cool. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go break into my friend’s parent’s liquor cabinet.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’m not. You’re Louis Tomlinson.”

“Ah. Right. Okay then. Bye, nerd. Stay of trouble this weekend.”

“I could say the same.”

Louis gathered his stuff, tried to hide the growing smile that was threatning to appear, and mentally prepeared himself for the night ahead of him. 

*

Louis threw his head back and downed another shot of whatever the hell it was he was drinking. 

“Heyyyyyyyy, Louis!” Zayn slurred out, obviously loads drunker than Louis was. He stumbled towards him, a small blonde following closely behind, looking a little tipsy herself.

“What?”

“Perrie and I are gonna go to Liam’s room and fuck, okay? Shh,” Zayn murmured, pressing his index finger against Louis’ lips instead of his own, “Don’t tell anyone.” 

“I won’t.”

“Good lad.”

Zayn smoothed down Louis’ out-of-place fringe, dragging his palm down his face. Once Zayn had left him, he decided it was time he found his own girlfriend; not that he wanted to. What he actually wanted to do was see Harry. Yeah, that was what he wanted. _But why?_

“Fuck you, Harry Styles.”  

“How about you fuck _me_ , instead?”

Louis whipped his body around to see Eleanor had found him before he found her. She pressed the front of her slight body against his and jutted her tongue inside his mouth, not giving him the chance to push her away in protest. He sloppily kissed her back, an involuntary moan leaving his mouth. He cursed, but didn’t beat himself up _too_ harshly over it. He was a drunk, teenage lad who had a girl’s tongue roaming his mouth; he couldn’t be blamed. 

“Come on,” the girl against him breathed out.

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs.” 

They found a room within minutes and Eleanor quickly discarded their clothing. When he threw her against the door and began kissing and licking at her neck, a name spilled over his lips. 

“ _Harry.”_

If the girl in front of him had noticed she didn’t make it known. The night carried on, couples claiming rooms to let out their sexual frustrations, others passed out in the yard with hardly any clothing. As for Louis, he would wake up the next morning, remembering nothing from the night before except for the part when he had said another boy’s name in place of his girlfriend’s. 


End file.
